Park that Car, Drop that Phone, Sleep on the Floor, Dream about Me

Honestly, people. Today is too weird for me.

I come into work this morning and check my email. There's an instruction from Ashlee on someone I should Google.

Back in our freshman year, Ashlee and I hung out with another couple of girls, Amanda and Jannette. Now, Amanda was a wild one--prime pickings for a Girls Gone Wild video. Watching her at it, you would think making out with her was part of Freshman Orientation. She wanted to sleep with 50 people before she graduated college.

Jannette was more civilized. A lot of fun, but definitely more reserved than her roommate. We'd all go out together, go to a frat party, get drunk, dance within ourselves, and maybe make out with a frat boy.

You know, typical freshman stuff.

And we grew apart, and Jannette went to Harvard or something like that, then came back to Austin, and then--

Apparently went batshit insane.

I don't even know what to do with that. Honestly, people, I just don't know. Sadly, I've come pretty close to behaving the same way. I just don't understand how people don't want to have sex like 3 or 4 times in one night. And I get pouty and pissy. I've never physically threatened anyone, and I wouldn't, I don't think. Maybe I have. I don't know. I'm always wasted. I don't even remember the last time with Junebug. But all the clues indicated that we had sex, so you just have to go with it.

But still. Dear Lord.

Still reeling from all this nonsense, I go outside for a cigarette.

Wait a minute. I know that lady.

Awww, hell.

It's one of the temp counselors from Core. Like, from when I worked there. Like, from when I sucked so bad they got rid of me. I feel all my office administration inadequacy flooding over me (followed by a deep blush).

I register surprise. She registers confusion as I see her desperately trying to place me.

She recognizes me. We exchange awkward banter. She has a couple permanent paralegal positions she's hiring for--

"So if you know anybody..."

Wow. You don't want me working for you, but you'll hire my friends? My brain is desperately trying to sort this all out, but it all sounds like Earthworm in my head.

I take her card. I flee into my office like there's free cake being offered inside or something.

At this point, I feel really weirded out by my day. And it was like 11 am. No good. The universe is seriously fucking with me. I figured I'd walk outside and there would be Sleazy, Junebug, and Mahdi--all playing badminton or something. With penguins. Together. I was waiting for it.

ACK!

I'll escape to my little Cuban restaurant (after running into a guy I made out with at the Cingular store--my phone is now fixed, kids--feel free to call. But yeah, I'm pretty shell-shocked at this point).

My Cuban restaurant will save me.

I'm staring off while waiting in line. It's always kinda hopping at lunchtime. The food's amazing. But no one I ever knew had heard of it. I'm looking forward, blankly, resembling this dude--like after electrodes in his eyes or whatnot--I have yet to make it all the way through Clockwork Orange.

Someone grabs my arm. I swear to God, if it's the guy who mugged me, I QUIT. Quit what, you ask? Fuck if I know, but I'm quitting.

Not the mugger. My office crush.

I am consumed by blushing. I try to banter. But he's with two other guy paralegals and seems a little distant. Just like a man. Whatever. I bet he'll come crawling back to my inbox in no time.

Heh. I think "my inbox" will be my name for my lady parts. I think that's brilliant.

Not that Office Crush has seen my inbox--but if he plays his cards right...

Oh, somebody please stop me.

I have no idea what kind of indication this is for my weekend, but I'm a little apprehensive.

And I bet there's a unicorn waiting for me in my room when I get there. Just wait.